


all by her lonesome

by whatcolourmyeyes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatcolourmyeyes/pseuds/whatcolourmyeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing between Darcy and Loki! Really!<br/>(This is all Jane and Thor's fault...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. G&Ts and PJs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jane said she was having a couple friends over, she didn't mention that those friends would be the Avengers... oh, and Loki.

When Jane had said that she was going to be throwing a party, this is not what Darcy was expecting. One split-second peek around the corner at the first sound of the apartment door being opened had revealed that when Jane says ‘a couple friends,’ what she means isn’t ‘a couple of physics nerds,’ but rather  _the entirety of the Avengers._

This had provoked, needless to say, a minor case of hyperventilation followed by a very necessary costume change. Which is how Darcy ended up here, sitting on a couch beside Captain America, trying to ignore the growing itchiness caused by the damned strapless bra she had forced herself into. (Poor ol’ Steve would probably have been less scandalized by a hardly-visible pair of bra straps than her current not even subtle attempts to readjust the girls.)

It’s not that she isn’t used to these events, having been invited to several psychedelic do’s at Stark Tower over the past couple of months, but there’s something surreal about seeing a bunch of superheroes drinking cocktails in the living room of Jane’s small New York apartment (it’s Darcy’s and Jane’s collectively, technically, but Darcy is already phasing out her belongings, living mostly out of a suitcase in preparation for the day that the inevitable happens; Thor’s gonna have to make a move eventually, and Darcy has no intention of staying and listening to nightly Asgardian monkey sex).

And who could neglect to mention Thor’s ever-reluctant plus-one to these events, Loki?

He’s been looking at Darcy curiously for several minutes, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes haven’t left her face, and only when a blush begins to crawl up her face does he slowly appraise her, eyes raking over her from head to toe. Flustered, Darcy whispers a rushed apology to Jane, saying that she’s tired. It’s easy enough to escape unnoticed, slipping out of her seat at the corner of the sofa and hurrying down the hall to the safety of her bedroom.

She makes a quick pit stop in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Beefeater. It’s unlikely to be missed, she reasons to herself, but the particular joy of a gin and tonic is one too often overlooked, in her humble opinion. A handful of ice cubes added to her glass of bubbling tonic water (it’s probably more full than necessary, but Darcy’s feeling adventurous, and besides, it’s a Friday night), and she’s ready to party.

The moment she’s locked the door behind her, Darcy changes into an oversized T-shirt and leaves her party clothes in a puddle on the floor. Taking a seat on her unmade bed, she pours a generous helping of gin into her cup and takes a deep sip.

They don’t mean to be, of course, but Jane’s friends (the superhero ones) are… intimidating. And Loki, unlike the others, _does_ mean to intimidate. She’d say that it’s a state he’s been reduced to because of the current tamper on his powers – maybe he feels psychologically ‘unmanned,’ she muses – but Darcy can’t help but question just how much weaker Loki really is. Blue glow stick aside, he has (or had, at least) more power than really ought to be in the hands of any one ~~man~~ god, particularly one saddled with enough daddy issues to send the entire American Psychiatric Association running (either in his direction, or as far away from him as humanly possible – she’s not sure).

“Lonely, Miss Lewis?”

If she were a different person, Darcy might have done the rational thing and screamed, or at least thrown a pillow. But in the grand scheme of things, this is hardly scary Loki behaviour, and besides, she knows that a) she is not physically capable of making him leave and b) reacting would involve releasing her grip on the drink she’s been quietly nursing as she listens to the sound of laughter and clinking glasses outside her door.

 “Have you been struck mute, or is this representative of your usual incompetence as a conversational partner?”

“Sorry, Loki, but this G&T and I have a _lot_ of catching up to do. And you are trespassing on official Darcy Lewis Only territory.” To be fair, this room is not always reserved for only Darcy, but things haven’t been going too well on the relationships front recently (or even the casual hook-ups front, if we’re being perfectly honest).

“Why did you leave? They all like you, you know. Even my idiotic bro- Thor enjoys your company.” _Wow. That was almost… kind?_ Loki pauses for a beat. “I hardly know why, of course. You seem perfectly average.” _Ah, there it is. Everyone can remain calm; looks like the Invasion of the Body Snatchers was a false alarm._

“Gee, thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Loki answers. Darcy cocks her head, wondering if he’s being serious, but then she notices his small smile (she rarely sees him smile properly; a smirk or a sneer sometimes, but not something that looks almost genuine, almost happy). “Are you- lonely?”

The question is tentative, and unexpected, coming from the supposedly unfeeling Disgraced Prince of Asgard or Yogurtheim or whatever.

“I am alone by choice, thankyouverymuch.” _Yeah, right, Lewis._ “This is- this is a self-imposed exile.”

“It is not a path I would recommend, Miss Lewis.”

Another pause.

Darcy is about to say something when Loki makes a stiff half-bow half-nod and abruptly turns around, reaching for the door knob.

“Goodnight, Miss Lewis.” As the door creaks shut behind him, she thinks she hears him whisper, “Sweet dreams.”

But that’s probably just her imagination. _._


	2. The Failed Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Thor fancy themselves matchmakers. Hint: they're as subtle as Mjölnir.

“Are you free tonight?”

Darcy looks up from her bowl of cereal. Or rather, what was once cereal, and is currently a scientific experiment on the relationship between the volume of milk seeping into her Cheerio’s versus the amount of time elapsed.

“Jane…”

“What?”

“It’s Saturday.” Jane doesn’t even blink. Jesus, is her hangover even worse than mine? “Saturday? As in date night? With Thor ‘Brick Shithouse’ Odinson? Your boyfriend?”

“Thor will be there too-” Jane blushes and then turns back to the sink, finishing washing the cutlery.

“Oh, hell no,” Darcy growls. “I know that look. That’s the ‘there’s this intern at Stark Tower who you’d really like’ look. Trust me, that is not how I want to spend my Saturday night. Fourth-wheeling you guys? No. Not a chance in hell.”

Drying her hands on a hideous orange towel (Darcy supplied the dish towels before, but they’re now neatly stacked at the bottom of her closet), Jane looks up brightly. “So you’re free, then?”

“Jane…” Darcy grumbles around a spoonful of cereal mush.

“I promise, I’m not setting you up with an intern again… we both know how that went.” Jane’s voice echoes as she wanders out into the front hall, jingling her keys. _Easy for you to promise, when you’re not even looking me in the face._ “See you at the diner,” Jane shouts, before Darcy can get another word in. “5:30. Don’t forget!”

“Jane Foster!”

Jane is already shutting the door behind her.

“I haven’t even agreed yet.”

\--

“Fuck.”

Loki and Thor look up at the same time (Thor grins, whereas Loki’s lips thin a little). The two are attracting unwanted attention, the little old lady in the booth across from theirs cautiously eyeing Loki as she takes minuscule bites of scrambled egg.

Darcy slides into the bench across from them, glancing back down at her cell phone, the offending messages still blinking up at her. _As if this couldn’t get any worse. I mean, seriously. ‘Not an intern.’ Good job, Jane. You picked_ Loki _instead? I’m not that desperate, am I?_

5:14 p.m. “hey :) I’m still at the lab… probably going to be late. – J”

5:31 p.m. “I’m so sorry, something came up… I need to stay a couple more hours. Sorry about dinner :( - J”

This prompts Thor to decide that it’s his mission to go “retrieve Jane and ensure her safety in getting home.” Apparently said mission also requires him to leave several hours early, leaving Darcy sitting uncomfortably across from Loki, who glares down at the full cup of coffee in front of him suspiciously.

(“I’m sure my brother would appreciate your company, Lady Darcy,” Thor booms. His implication hangs heavy in the air: unless someone is babysitting Enemy #1, it’s back to the holding cell. So Darcy stays.)

“It’s drinkable, you know,” Darcy says conversationally. The silence is actually, if possible, even more infuriating than Loki’s usual stream of vitriol, and Darcy has never been good at handling awkward silences. “The coffee. I mean, it isn’t poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about. If SHIELD wanted to kill you, they’d have found a different way. Not that they would want to kill you. And I mean, poison probably wouldn’t even work anyway, right? Shit. We were talking about coffee. I didn’t mean- Shit.” _Aaaand now you’re babbling. Great._

Darcy stops herself from continuing, picking at her cuticles until she notices it and quickly stills her hands’ movements. _Bad habit, Lewis._

“Why are you here?” Loki asks, disregarding the past minute of Darcy embarrassing herself and contemplating his murder. His voice isn’t cold exactly, but it’s not friendly, either. _Might be understandable, what with you talking about_ killing him _, Lewis. A+ social skills._

“I can’t just leave you here alone,” Darcy says awkwardly. She doesn’t want to get into the specifics, since she doubts that bringing up Loki’s current situation is going to diminish the likelihood of her being flattened into a pancake. _He’s supposed to be smart, why can’t he figure it out? Or does he just enjoy making me stutter?_ It seems a distinct possibility.

“Why did you come at all?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Miss Lewis. It doesn’t suit you.” _Another half-compliment. You’re on a roll, Lewis._ “You knew just as well as I that Jane’s excuse is a fabrication.”

“Yeah, doesn’t take the God of Lies to figure that one out,” Darcy mutters. “And Thor wasn’t even trying. I mean, seriously, it takes him a split-second to travel _anywhere_ , and he needs to leave early? Why? In case of traffic?”

Loki’s eyes flit upwards at that, and Darcy wishes she had shut her mouth. She reaches for his cup of coffee, and takes a gulp. Anything to avoid the look of – could it be? – respect and… something else, something that makes his eyes darken sinisterly. ( _Not_ that she is looking. Her eyes are trained on the coffee. And only the coffee. _Okay, you can’t blame a girl for using her peripheral vision._ )

“What are you doing, Miss Lewis?”

“It’s not like you were drinking it,” she grumbles defensively.

“Not that vile concoction.” This provokes a glare from the waitress scrubbing the table beside them. “What are you doing _here_?”

“Having a nice dinner, I guess. Going on a ‘date.’” Darcy emphasizes the air quotes, because there is no way in _hell_ that this is actually going to turn out to be a date. No. That can’t happen. _Why? Because he’s an ass? Or because you want to spite Thor and Jane?_

He hasn’t been an asswipe just yet, actually, and, well, Loki _is_ attractive, she’ll give him that much. Call her crazy, but in that tight white button-down, he manages to fit in effortlessly, or at least, he would fit in, if you didn’t recognize that face as belonging to the same guy who attempted mass genocide a year ago.

_Still. Not an option, Lewis. The pickings will never be that slim._

“Unless you’d rather go back to the Tower.” For some reason, it feels like Darcy is wheedling Loki into going on a date with her. It works, though.

“A nice dinner, then.” He says it apprehensively – the way Darcy might say ‘a pleasant colonoscopy’ – and looks down at the paper menu in front of him proclaiming ‘All-Day Breakfast.’ He shakes his head slightly at another one of Earth’s many incomprehensibilities.

After a prolonged discussion about the pros and cons of pancakes or waffles (a debate that Darcy doesn’t really think is fair, since the problem could be solved by eating both), they agree to get one order of each and to share. Loki looks practically offended at the idea at first, and Darcy tries not to blush at the sudden mental image of Loki slipping a strawberry between her teeth as they eat breakfast in bed. _Where the hell did that come from, Darce? That’s it. You’re officially off your rocker._

“Isn’t that rather intima-” Darcy cuts him off before he can say the ‘intimate’ word, because she really isn’t sure she could take that right now. Her brain is all too ready to supply some more images, and Darcy is putting a stop to this right now.

“Cool your jets, granny. I don’t know how uptight you guys are in Asgard, but this is the 21st century. Men and women are allowed contact before marriage. Anyway, I’m not going to be feeding you off my fork. Get a grip.”

She rolls her eyes at the sudden lascivious grin Loki flashes at her.

“You know, you could loosen up a little, Miss Lewis. God of Mischief, remember?”

The idea of him telling a joke seems almost foreign to her, but Darcy is willing enough to (cautiously) accept this new, dare she say ‘nice’ side of Loki.

“I won’t bite, promise.” _Not unless you ask nicely_ , her brain supplies.

The waitress comes by and brings them their plates with a clatter.

“Enjoy your meal,” she chirps, and then she’s off scurrying back to the cash register.

Loki grins.

“Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are mistakes! I was on a roll, and then I realized it was 11 o'clock and I didn't feel like editing it. Enjoy :P  
> (Also, for anyone who cares, the Cold as the Night sequel is being outlined as we speak... well, not literally, but still. I'm so excited!!!)
> 
> Comments/kudos bring me joy (and encourage me to write *hint hint*)


	3. Pancakes & Piggybacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a nice, relaxing evening... oh wait, Loki.

Loki insists on having perfectly equal amounts of pancake and waffle to ensure that his final decision is not biased. Darcy thinks that if he were this thoughtful when it came to other endeavours, he wouldn’t be in this mess to start with, but she keeps her mouth shut.

(He prefers pancakes, as it turns out.)

They eat quietly, the silence punctuated by the squeak of metal cutlery on old plates and the sound of Darcy’s elevated heartbeat.

This is a perfectly understandable and _purely physical_ reaction caused by Loki’s insistence on slowly licking a dab of maple syrup off his finger. The action naturally draws attention to his very long hands, and of course from there, Darcy’s mind quickly starts coming up with ideas about what else he could do with said hands – or said tongue, she’s not picky – and okay, Darcy really needs to get sexed stat, because the thoughts she is having are not at all PG, and they are very, very not okay because this is _Loki_ , for Chrissake.

Besides, she can’t cave this easily; that would mean letting Jane and Thor _win_. And Darcy is a sore loser.

Dinner could not be over soon enough, and actually, with Darcy eating like the Huns could be attacking at any second, the meal finishes pretty quickly. Just her luck that when their waitress comes by with the check, Darcy realizes that since Loki has no source of income, she has to foot the bill. _Thor is getting a very stern talking-to once we get home- wait a second. Oh no. No. They wouldn’t just leave me with him all night, would they?_ Darcy has more than a sneaking suspicion that they would, in fact, do just that.

This leaves Darcy faced with the dilemma of what she is supposed to _do_ with Loki. He needs to be returned to whatever glorified metal box they’re keeping him back at Stark Tower, but to be honest, Darcy doesn’t really feel like taking the subway all the way downtown with a supervillain in tow. Especially not at quarter past six on a weekend. Crowded subway cars filled with the people Loki tried to enslave? It would only mean mass panic or World Takeover Part Two. _Not how I’m spending what remains of my Saturday._ A taxi is out of the question, since Darcy’s more than a little strapped for cash at the moment, and if they get stuck in traffic, there’s no way she’ll be able to cover it.

The only logical solution, therefore, is to go back to ~~Darcy’s~~ ~~Jane’s~~ the apartment and wait for Thor and Jane to show up and sort it out. It’s their problem, after all.

“Hey, Grumpy!” she says, dumping the last of her change into the tip jar.

Loki snaps out of whatever daze he’s in and turns to Darcy.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“We’re going home.”

Loki looks blankly back at her. ‘Home’ is clearly not a concept familiar to him anymore. That thought almost – well, not even almost – makes Darcy feel a little sorry for him. ‘Sorry,’ however, does not translate to Darcy feeling any more excited at the prospect of spending more time with Sir Smirks-a-lot.

“ _My_ home,” she clarifies. “I’m not taking the risk of unleashing you on the New York public transit system.”

Loki sneers a little at the thought, and in this case, Darcy finds herself in agreement with him.

“Well, what would you suggest instead?” The smirk on Loki’s face is overly Stuttgart for Darcy’s liking, and it solidifies her final decision.

She still regrets it the moment the words exit her mouth.

“We are…. walking.”

\--

Five minutes in, Darcy would rather have dealt with any number of terrified passengers on the subway. Press CTRL+Z, step backward, and convince Past Darcy to just take the damn tube. Her ‘cute’ ballet flats have done quite the number on her feet, and she’s now hobbling behind Loki as they walk along the back alleyways she insisted on taking to avoid any awkward public sightings.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the current plan involves spending an indefinite period of time in Loki’s presence until Thor and Jane show up. Assuming that they even make it to the apartment.

After Darcy steps on Loki’s heel for the third time, he finally speaks up.

“Miss Lewis, this is moronic.”

“Well, unless you have a better idea, I’d recommend shutting up,” Darcy replies sharply. This eloquent comeback is spoiled by Darcy tripping over a crack on the pavement and face planting against Loki’s back. He whirls around, and Darcy prepares to face the full brunt of his anger.

“Miss Lewis,” he says tersely. “You. On my back. Now.”

“Um…” _So he’s not going to kill you, at least._ Refusing would be a bad idea for at least two reasons that she can think of (namely the fact that she doesn’t want to push her luck with Loki any further, and besides, walking in these shoes is not worth any amount of pride), so Darcy has no choice but to mumble a hesitant “Okay.”

Loki turns back around and leans down slightly, and if Darcy thought that this was a joke, it’s now dawning on her that the God of Mischief really is offering to give her a piggyback. _That took an unexpected turn._

“Miss Lewis, I would recommend hurrying up.” Darcy lightly places her hands on his shoulders. “You won’t break me, darling.”

_Darling. That’s a new one._

“Yeah, yeah, big macho god, I get the picture,” Darcy grumbles as his hands find the backs of her thighs, and without any visible amount of effort on his part, she is suddenly being lifted up and experiencing the world from the perspective of a 6’2” wall of lean muscle. It’s a beautiful moment.

Her arms tighten around Loki’s shoulders, and she tries not to stutter at their sudden closeness.

“I’m still never letting you live down the fact that you kneeled for a mere Earthling.”

“If you even think of mentioning this to my brother, there will be Hel to pay,” Loki says darkly, but Darcy simply rests her chin on his shoulder and tightens her legs around him as he begins to walk forward.

“I won’t tell on you,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! I had hoped to update a little earlier, but then my internet was going on the fritz.  
> Leave kudos/comments <3


	4. Sleepy & Grumpy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sparks, cuddles, and a confused Thor and Jane. (They don't know what they have coming.)

Darcy wraps her legs tightly around Loki’s hips as he begins to walk forward. (To his credit, he doesn’t even flinch, those his jaw does clench when she digs her heels in and channels her inner British major. “Forward to walk, march.” “I have no qualms about dropping you, Miss Lewis.” She doesn’t believe him. Though she does decide not to make any references to Sleipnir.)

“Which way?”

“Right.” Loki turns slightly. “No, no, your _other_ right.”

“I _can’t_ turn right, that’s a fence.”

“Oh, it’s under construction. Well then, keep going. Straight ahead.” Darcy feels like she’s giving video game instructions. “Alright. When you get to the next intersection, turn.”

“Miss Lewis.” He sounds more amused than exasperated, but Darcy still tenses.

“What?”

“I can’t see with your hair in my face.”

Darcy inelegantly flips her hair back, nearly giving herself whiplash in the process. She’s grateful for the fact that at least Loki can’t see her right now. Not wanting to risk loosening her grip around him, she hopes that the quick rush of air she’s generated has done enough to get the thick curls out of her (and Loki’s) face.

\--

Loki insists on piggybacking her all the way up to her apartment. Luckily, the concierge (or whatever the grungy New York alternative is) appears to be asleep, and he puts her down once they get into the elevator.

Tugging off her shoes with a sigh, Darcy winces. The elevator doors _ping_ open, and Loki follows her down the carpeted hallway (a dizzying triangle pattern that might once have been an orange hue and is now beige-ish, like it hasn’t quite set its mind on what colour it is).

“Jane?”

Darcy flicks the lights on and locks the door, sighing when she sees that no one is home. _Well, as long as Loki doesn’t attempt to go on the lam, you’ll be fine. Otherwise… you have the Taser._

“I’ll be just a second,” she mutters to Loki, who is now awkwardly standing in the hallway. “You can go wait on the sofa or something.”

She then slowly makes her way to over to the bathroom, balancing on the sides of her feet to avoid irritating the already-forming blisters. Newly Band-Aid-ed up, Darcy peeks in on Loki – now seated on the couch – and then tiptoes over to her bedroom. Darcy tugs on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not to mention a comfy pair of fluffy purple socks, and then returns to the living room. Realistically, Jane and Thor aren’t gonna be coming home any time soon, and if that means keeping Loki company, she’s damn well going to get comfortable first.

Loki cocks an eyebrow when she walks in, but he – wisely – says nothing.

“How about watching some T.V.?” Darcy asks. _If we’re gonna have to go on this ‘date,’ might as well hit every trope while we’re at it. Minus the cuddling part. Obviously._

Loki makes a non-committal noise, and Darcy takes that as a silent yes. Picking up the remote, she flips through channels until she comes across the opening credits to some made-for-TV movie. _Beats trying to make conversation with the Grump._

(That’s what she tells herself, at least. Not that she doesn’t take advantage of her opportunity to move a little closer to Loki. When he says nothing, she leans her head onto his shoulder and muffles a slight yawn.)

\--

It’s a boring movie; some typical rom-com about best friends who are obviously going to end up together, but who just haven’t realized it yet. So it isn’t really Darcy’s fault that she falls asleep. She’s had a long day of not doing anything, and now, half-lying on the couch, Loki’s arm around her (not sure when that happened, probably around the same time that she started nuzzling into his neck until she was sufficiently comfy), she just kinda… dozes off. The pleasant kind of dozing, the kind where she’s just awake enough to mumble incoherent criticisms of the loophole-ridden plot and to keep her glazed eyes open, taking in the godliness before her. (The T.V. screen is less interesting.)

“Are you comfortable, Miss Lewis?”

“I am now,” Darcy replies. “You’re a good pillow.”

Loki smirks down at her.

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“I’d say if you’re good at cuddling, you’re getting at least one thing right.”

“Ah yes, my life goal has finally been attained. No throne for Loki Laufeyson, but a cushion for one Miss Lewis to rest her head.”

It could sound bitter – maybe it is – but Darcy hears something light-hearted in it.

“Exactly,” she giggles (the giggle is unintentional, though preferable at least to a snort, which she has been known, on occasion, to let out rather loudly). Loki’s chest rumbles slightly as he lets out a quiet laugh. Darcy realizes that neither of them have been watching the movie for quite some time, and her eyes have been slowly taking in every aspect of his countenance, cataloguing the planes of his face. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and it’s annoyingly adorable.

Darcy’s own laughter stops in her throat when she hears the front door slowly opening and the familiar clomp of Thor walking in. Loki’s grin turns into a bit of a sneer, and he withdraws his arm, while Darcy assumes the sombre demeanour of a funeral attendee.

“Hey, Darce!”

“Hi, Jane,” Darcy replies with a yawn. “Nice of you to show up. Finally come to take this guy off my hands?”

Darcy has to hold in a squeak as Loki subtly pokes in her in the side. _Yeah, don’t think that calling him ‘this guy’ is gonna fly, Lewis._

“Lady Darcy. Brother,” Thor booms. “Greetings.”

“Greetings and salutations,” Darcy replies, casually angling herself a little further away from Loki. _They’re wrong. One hundred percent incorrect. There is nothing going on here._

“Did you have a nice night?” Jane’s smile is much too bright.

“How was everything at the ‘lab’?” Darcy asks, ignoring her question.

“Oh. It was… it was fine,” Jane replies, casting a guilty look at Blonde Norse Hotness.

“Lovely,” Loki cuts in. He doesn’t look like he thinks it’s lovely in the least. “Time to go, I believe.” He gets up and walks to the door, not looking back at Darcy or even acknowledging her presence. Thor’s eyes flit to her, and she tries not to react to the obvious slight.

“Dr. Foster,” Loki adds with a sarcastic bow. Jane unconsciously takes a step backward. _So much for trusting Mr. Reformed Bad Guy._ Thor pulls Jane in for a kiss, and Darcy and Loki look away. They’re cute, but still… not the time.

“Goodnight, Miss Lewis.” Loki’s managed to sneak beside her, and his breath is hot against her ear. Christ, she’s going to be having some verrry bad thoughts tonight.

Darcy tries to contain her blush, and looks back baldly at Loki. Thor and Jane exchange a curious look.

“Yup.” She sounds like a bratty fourteen-year-old (which was her aim, so Darcy’s counting this as a definite success).

“Sweet dreams.” She catches the hush of his whisper, and then the sensation, so slight she might just have imagined it, of Loki’s lips brushing her cheek.

“Whatever,” she says. _For Thor and Jane’s benefit._

Or perhaps for her own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Another chapter done!  
> Let me know what you think in the comments :)  
> A big thank you to all my readers - you're the reason why I do this.


	5. Well, frick...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is really good at fucking herself over.  
> And boy has she done it this time.  
> (Or: this favour is going to kill her.)

_This may have been a mistake._

Darcy’s been here before. She is no more immune than anyone else to the certainty that human beings fuck things up. One might even say it’s one of her fortes. When she started her Poli Sci degree, it was under the assumption that if she worked hard enough, she could get a job working for a senator, maybe even work her way up to the White House. She had big dreams, and a much smaller bank account. After she finished her degree and it came time to start ticking off each step on her Ten-Year Plan, it soon became clear that she had forgotten to include ‘work a menial job for a year to pay off student loans.’

And thus, the research assistant position. It had absolutely nothing to do with her chosen career path, but hey, money was money, and Dr. Foster seemed nice enough. For the first year, Darcy ate Mac and Cheese almost every night, saving the money from her pay checks religiously.

Then things happened. Thor happened.

Jane’s research grant was refused her, and Darcy’s boss and now best friend became her roommate. The Plan was officially set aside until further notice. ‘Further notice’ arrived in the form of a concerned Mrs. Lewis who wanted to know what Darcy’s _New_ Plan was. (The economy was rough, she argued, and it was only reasonable to bump her deadlines up one year. Her mother just sighed.)

One year turned into two.

Along came Tony Stark, a saviour in a pair of billionaire, Playboy (or not-so-Playboy, if the rumours were true) sunglasses, offering to fund Jane’s lab. Darcy got a fancy new title, Jane got a fancy new lab. There weren’t exactly any desirable internships waiting around the corner, no senators beating down Darcy’s door, and so the New Plan was replaced with the _New_ , New Plan. _Take some online courses, beef up your resume. You’ll be all set next year._

Two years turned into three.

\--

Darcy doesn’t mind it, really. She loves her work, and she’s become an invaluable member of Jane’s team due to her ability to translate Physics Geek into normal English. But there isn’t much else she has in her life. The Plan swallowed up all allowances for an actual social life, and what with aliens attacking and teams of superheroes getting into epic showdowns that resulted in entire city blocks being totalled, getting a boyfriend wasn’t exactly on her mind.

Then her mother started calling again. When your mom tells you that you need to live a little, you might have a problem. When one of Earth’s mightiest heroes starts setting you up with some great guy from two floors down, it doesn’t get any more official than that.

Enter Loki, stage right.

_This may have been a mistake._

\--

“How was your dat- dinner?” _It was_ not _a date._

“Jane…”

“Was it not good?” Jane asks hesitantly. “I know Loki can be a bit much sometimes.”

“It was…” _Really good, actually. Too good, to be honest._ “It was fine,” Darcy finishes lamely. “The waffles were good.”

“Oh, Darce, I’m sorry I did that to you; it was all Thor’s idea!” Jane claps her hands over her mouth, but her blush is already spreading.

Darcy bursts into laughter.

“Of _course_ it was.”

“I know I should have warned you, but you would never have agreed otherwise… and Thor was so insistent. Loki wasn’t dreadful, was he?”

“Nah, he was almost agreeable. Almost.” Darcy words her answer carefully, not wanting to sound over-excited. After all, Jane and Thor are wrong about all this. She and Loki would be the worst possible-

“Would you mind seeing him again?” Jane asks. Their interrogation session almost over, Darcy sputters at the unexpected question.

“Uh- well… I dunno.”

“Cause Thor and I were thinking,” Jane interrupts. “Loki seemed to like you-”

“Let’s not be too hasty, here, Jane. He didn’t attempt to murder me. That’s not the same thing.” _He also gave you a piggyback and cuddled with you on the couch. Not that any of that counts._

“Darce, if you guys hung out, even just as friends… Thor worries about him. It’s not like he gets a lot of chances to go out and make friends. Whether he wants to or not.”

“So you’d like me to babysit him?” It’s not an accusation; she knows that Thor spends more time with Loki than he does with Jane most nights (much to Loki’s own chagrin, since he’s focused on ignoring not-his-brother). _Clearly Grumpy needs a firmer grasp on what exactly ‘adoption’ entails, since I don’t think he gets it._

“Would you mind terribly? I know that he’s not-”

“Jane, it’s cool. Really.”

\--

Darcy could write a book on different four-word combinations that have fucked her over. The first one is: “Just one more year.” The second is: “Jane, it’s cool. Really.”

What was supposed to be a one-off ‘date’ to appease Thor and Jane has been steadily gaining complications. It starts as an unspoken pact between them: Loki will pretend to like Darcy, and Darcy will put up with him. A win-win situation. Darcy gets… well, she gets company for a change, and it means Jane’s off with Thor rather than moping around the apartment. And Loki is granted a break from his imprisonment in Stark Tower.

It’s been working pretty well… well, asides from Jane’s insistence on making ‘Mr. Darcy’ puns constantly. She’s convinced that Darcy is “hiding her true feelings.” _Like I would actually care about him and just cover it up… As if!_

(This may have been – scratch that, this _was_ – a mistake.)

See, the problem is that Darcy is starting to pretend, as well. She wasn’t supposed to be lying. It was a _given_ that Darcy didn’t like Loki. It couldn’t possibly happen, not after the whole ‘attempted to take over her planet and subjugate her species’ thing… But then Loki had to waltz in and not be the jerk she was expecting.  And if you get past the snark and leather (hell, he can even keep the leather), it’s easier than you’d think to start getting along with the guy.

(Unless your name is Thor. Or Odin. Then you’re basically screwed.)

Darcy is thoroughly and utterly fucked. She’s playing a lying game with the God of Lies, and regardless of whether or not that ‘God’ part of his title is accurate or not, he is _good_ at it. Better than she is.

She’s worried that she’s going to slip up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :)  
> Many thanks for the kudos/comments!!!


	6. The More Successful Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for baby-sitting duty, Loki wants to up the stakes of his little game, and Darcy has literally no idea what's going on.

“I believe this has gone on long enough, Miss Lewis.”

Darcy nearly chokes on her coffee. (This is only partially due to Loki’s opener. She’s currently balancing on her elbows, which, for future reference, is not a very good position for comfortably sipping a mug of hot liquid.)

It’s 9 a.m. on a Sunday (Thor wanted to take Jane to the zoo) and Darcy is staying horizontal on her bed, Loki be damned. Sleeping in on Sunday is a tradition, one that she is unwilling to break.

“What are you suggesting?”

Darcy tries to keep her voice calm. Thoughts about stopping this – whatever ‘this’ is – have been whirling around in Darcy’s head for weeks, but now that it could be happening, she’s no longer excited at the prospect. _Stupid, Darce. This is precisely what you should want._

“Thor and Jane seem to be under the impression that I am courting you.”

Darcy sits up, keeping her duvet firmly wrapped around her.

“Under an impression that we have been cultivating, you mean,” she clarifies.

Loki has been relegated to the one uncluttered corner in her bedroom, trying not to pointedly stare at the piles of half-read books and skinny jeans that she slipped out of and never picked up. _No embarrassing bras on display, at least._ Darcy still remembers vividly the time a hot pink lace number managed to fall on Thor’s head. He was quite level-headed about the whole thing, but Darcy was mortified. The memory is sufficient for Darcy to casually tilt her head and survey the room once more, just to double-check. _All clear._

Loki grins that knife-blade’s smile, the one that got her into this mess in the first place.

“Of course.”

In retrospect, Darcy should have thought this through a little more, but she had been tired and bleary-eyed and was focussed on not being under Loki’s microscope gaze for another second while wearing nothing but an oversized tee. Procrastinating on finding a better solution had seemed like a good idea at the time. She forgot, of course, that she wasn’t going to be able to fall right back asleep with Loki continuing to moodily stare straight at her. (His eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance, and she wonders if it has any connection to the Captain America duvet. More likely it’s just her general presence. Or his seat on the hardwood floor.)

Now, sleep is impossible.

“Everything is now perfectly in place. We simply require a plan,” Loki continues.

“A plan for what?” Darcy asks apprehensively.

“The next step.”

\--

Mischief is Loki’s domain, though he seems to veer more into the category of full-blown chaos most of the time. If she weren’t involved, Darcy might find it kind of cute how he tries in his own way to pull pranks and reassert his misguided sense of superiority even now.

If she weren’t involved.

But she is. And that makes things messier.

Sometimes she thinks that this is the real trick: it would be the ultimate work of manipulation, after all. Giving just enough hints to make her think he could care, and then taking it all back, making it a business transaction. A means of alleviating boredom. He plays her effortlessly.

It’s partly her fault, though. Darcy always goes along with it.

\--

“A double-date? That’s your big idea?” It’s pretty tame, especially for Loki. And Darcy knows that can only mean one thing: it’s not going to be just a double date. Nothing is ‘just’ _any_ thing when it comes to Loki.

“Darling, you make it sound so much less exciting than it is.”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me, Loki.” His lips quirk upwards. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“Miss Lewis, it almost sounds like you don’t trust me at all,” he says mock-hurt. “I’m offended.”

“My heart bleeds for you, really, it does.” Darcy slips off the bed, her hands gripping the hem of the T-shirt to make sure it hits at least mid-thigh. “But you are going to have to try a lot harder to get out of this one. I’m not about to just blindly-” _Blindly follow you_ , she’s going to say, but Loki is already standing up, dusting off his knees.

“Wonderful, darling. Tonight, then?”

And right on cue, the doorbell chimes.

\--

Thor and Jane look equally uncomfortable as they try to valiantly carry the conversation. The opposite side of the dinner table is silent.

Jane keeps making Emphatic Eye Contact with Darcy (which Darcy tries to sidestep by keeping her eyes down and playing with the rim of her glass of water). _What is taking the waiter so long?_ Unfortunately, Loki’s presence is harder to ignore, especially since he insists on gradually moving closer and closer to Darcy until their thighs are _almost_ (but not quite) touching.

_You don’t like him, remember? Don’t look at him, don’t look – oh dammit, you looked._ Loki smirks and Darcy goes back to staring at her water.

“Excuse me, Darcy?”

Darcy’s head snaps up. _A welcome interruption!_

“Hey...” She trails off as her eyes trail over the familiar plaid button-down, up to a friendly round face... It’s that intern. She thinks his name is Robert? The ‘ill-advised date’ intern. _Correction: a not-so-welcome interruption._ “Rob, right?”

“Yeah, I- um, well I was just wondering…” The poor guy comes to a halt, and Darcy realizes that Loki has casually slung an arm over her shoulder. Jane and Thor are both trying not to watch Darcy, but she can tell from Jane’s newly acquired cheery tone and her occasional stutter that she’s not at all focused on the discussion of Asgardian salad dressing or whatever the latest topic is. (“When we visit Asgard next, I promise that there shall be a feast in your honour.” “Oh, Thor, that’s not necess-” “I insist.” “Thor, really.”) “How- how are you?” Rob recovers.

“I’m fine, I’m-”

“Busy,” Loki cuts in.

The look on Rob’s face would be almost hilarious, were it not for the fact that Darcy is now mortified. Seeing the look of comprehension gradually dawn on Rob’s face is like walking a train wreck in slow motion: she can practically see the gears in his head already turning, all the signs pointing to one obvious conclusion. A conclusion that would be incorrect, but one that will nonetheless have spread throughout Stark Tower by Monday morning.

“Of course, right, yeah. I need to go, anyway. See you around?”

Darcy smiles tightly.

“Seeya.”

\--

“I had that handled,” she growls, once Jane and Thor have finally given up on being social and are wrapped up in sharing each other’s pasta. _God, they’re adorable._

“Are you quite sure about that? It seemed that assistance was necessary.” Loki still has that same shit-eating grin on his face, and Darcy stabs angrily at her plate of ravioli.

“I could have gotten him to leave _without_ any of your so-called assistance.”

“Dar-” _Darling? Darcy?_ It doesn’t matter, because before he can finish, Darcy silences him with a forkful of stuffed noodle.

_Definitely a mistake. (Another one.)_

\--

There used to be a creaky stair on the way up to Darcy’s bedroom. Third from the top, left-hand side. Every time Darcy made her way up the staircase, she would remind herself not to step there.

Every time, she would mess up the same way, accidentally putting all her weight on that damn stair.

Some mistakes seem to be habit-forming.

\--

Darcy wonders if Loki is capable of planning this far in advance, because she’s managed to singlehandedly confirm Jane and Thor’s hopes without him doing a single thing. _If that was what he wanted…_ Loki licks his lips as he returns to his own meal, and Darcy sighs to herself.

On the plus side, she no longer has any qualms about reaching over and stealing some of Loki’s food. He rolls his eyes and moves his plate closer to hers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXAMS ARE OVER!!! I leave for Germany in a week, and I couldn't be more excited :D  
> I'll try to finish this fic off (I'm only expecting to need a couple more chapters) before I go...  
> Many thanks to my loyal readers! Go forth and leave your kudos/reviews/whatever. I love you all <3


	7. Get Moving!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving out was only a matter of time.

“Son of a _bitch_!”

“Is anything the matter, Miss Lewis?”

Darcy winces as she runs cold water over the rapidly forming burn on her hand. It’s out of character for her; she usually prides herself on her ability to find her way around in a kitchen. _Foiled by a pot of boiling water. It’s a bad way to go._

“Is anything the matter?” Darcy shakes out her hand. “No, everything’s just hunky-dory, Grumpykins. What do you think?” Two things become clear at this moment: firstly, Darcy just said that aloud; and secondly, she really doesn’t care right now.

A waft of _Eau de Loki_ signals the god’s eminent approach, and Darcy inches closer to the sink, the metal edge digging into her stomach. He just moves another step, his arm sneaking around her waist, his hand landing over hers.

“Dude. Personal space,” Darcy grumbles, trying not to blush. Jane and Thor aren’t around, and she has no desire to keep up this act when it’s not even for their benefit. “Aren’t you burdened with oh-so-glorious purpose or whatever? Can’t you go accomplish said purpose instead of bothering me?”

“No,” Loki whispers, leaning his head onto her shoulder. Darcy almost misses the sudden cooling sensation over her hand, and she starts as she looks down at her palms and sees the burn already beginning to fade.

“Well, I suppose there are some benefits to keeping you around.”

\--

When Jane and Thor walk through the door, firmly holding hands, Darcy is reminded of her parents giving her Big Talks when she was younger. Jane looks excited but apprehensive, while Thor’s eyes dart immediately over to Loki, who is slouched on the couch, poring over Darcy’s old copy of _Jane Eyre_. It doesn’t take an astrophysicist to figure it out. _It’s time to move out, Darce._

She’s right. Of course.

\--

“Live with _Loki_?”

“Only if you’re okay with that,” Jane says at once. “See, Thor-” (she says this with an adoring look on her face, while Thor looks away awkwardly) “- Thor got SHIELD to agree to move Loki into another room in Stark Tower. With the condition that he is either in handcuffs or under supervision at all times.”

“Why me?”

“Who else would be able to put up with him? Thor is the only member of the Avengers, let alone SHIELD, who was willing to help out. And who else would Loki be able to put up with?”

Darcy’s eyes dart frantically to Loki, but he’s still enraptured with his book.

“I- I think you’re misunderstanding something. Loki wouldn’t want me to… I- we don’t even like each other.” Jane and Thor look less than convinced.

“It would be no worse than enduring Thor’s company,” Loki cuts in.

It’s as good as a declaration of love as far as Jane and Thor are concerned.

“So, Darce? What do you think?” The look in Jane’s eyes convinces Darcy that the poor woman really thinks she’s doing her friend a huge favour and helping her along with the guy she’s just unwilling to admit to having feelings for. She could not be more wrong in thinking that.

 _I_ don’t _like him. Definitely not._

\--

This time, Darcy’s fate is sealed with one word.

“Okay.”

\--

It’s not a totally horrible situation, really. They move in the next Saturday. Her new room is an upgrade from her closet-sized space at Jane’s, and Tony greeted Darcy by gifting her with a brand new Stark laptop. The one downside, of course, is SHIELD’s firm guidelines about being Loki’s new official babysitter.

Needing to have Loki within your sightline at all times is even more of a chore than it sounds. So far, Darcy has worked around it by forcing him to sit through horrible soap opera re-runs playing on the huge TV screen in their living room, but to be honest, she’s going to go stir crazy if she doesn’t get outside soon. And taking Loki outside would necessitate a pile of paperwork. (Paperwork which, granted, Thor didn’t even bother with. But Darcy doesn’t have any ‘I’m a Norse God’-ness to hide behind, should she anger the Mighty and Powerful Directory Fury.)

She couldn’t be happier once the weekend is finally over. Come Monday, Loki is to tag along with her as she works with Jane in the lab. A roll of a duct tape, and it should be manageable.

\--

“This is hardly a productive use of your time, Miss Lewis,” Loki drawls as he watches her tiredly scroll through new Facebook pictures. (Former) friends – getting involved with SHIELD has made things complicated – graduating, getting married, having kids. Normal people leading normal lives.

“Shut up, Loki.”

He’s leaning on the back of the couch, right behind her, his head balanced on his forearms, and Darcy can feel his breath fanning against her cheek. It’s monumentally distracting. She’s trying to wallow in self-pity, here, and he has the _gall_ to remind her how pathetic that is. As if she didn’t already know.

(Having to handcuff Scarypants every time she wants to go to the bathroom shouldn’t be something she’s getting used to, though, and Darcy thinks she should receive a key to the city for this kind of dedication and community service.)

“It’s quite pa-” _Don’t you dare, Loki Laufeyson. Don’t you dare._

“Shut _up_ , Loki.”

Darcy’s eyes burn a little, and she wishes she could have just an hour to go to her room and not be reminded of his smell and his smile and his voice. Perhaps sensing that something is off, Loki refrains from commenting for a grand total of two minutes. But he just can’t seem to help it sometimes.

“Is _that_ what you want?” he asks, gesturing to her screen. “I know that… our current living arrangements do not lend themselves to such a future for you.”

“I’m going to take that as an apology, since we both know that this is all thanks to your little prank, and I doubt I’ll be getting a proper ‘I’m sorry’ ever.”

“Are you… unhappy?”

Darcy takes a deep breath. The truth is, she’d have been thrilled with their current arrangements if they had been under different circumstances. The whole ‘married with kids’ thing always seemed kinda 50s to her. It wasn’t in the Plan all those years ago, and it never made its way in. But now any chance of a romantic life has been shot, and Loki is her only option. A not viable, not to mention not interested, option. _So not an option. Right, Lewis?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Real Power (Needs a Magazine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki being helpless and... not so helpless.

It’s a Monday. _Whoo._

_Time for work._

When Darcy walks over to Loki’s room to wake him up – after deliberating for three minutes, because going over there seemed (and still seems) about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon – she finds that he’s already awake, sitting at the foot of his bed, his hands still in their handcuffs.

Darcy has a genuine fear that some morning, she’ll walk in, and he’ll have found a way out of them. A couple runes and a clunky metal design doesn’t really seem sufficient to keep in the power that is Total Chaos, and Loki has been too compliant. He wouldn’t be like this, not unless he knew that he still had the upper hand.

He’s still wearing his pyjamas, and Darcy feels guilty for leaving him waiting. He refuses to make any eye contact with her as she slips the key off from around her neck and dutifully unlocks the cuffs. The runes around their edges glow bright blue for a moment, and then they fall open.

Loki doesn’t say anything, not even when he looks up and his eyes meet hers.

Darcy hates awkward silences, and she quickly exits the room, grabbing two bowls and two spoons from a cabinet before setting them out onto the island in their little kitchenette. She doesn’t stick around to see the inevitable look of distaste on Loki’s face when he sees what passes for a breakfast when it’s a Monday morning and Darcy’s behind schedule. She shovels All-Bran and milk into her mouth as quickly as possible before running to the bathroom (she leaves the door open, figuring that’s as good to 24/7 supervision SHIELD is gonna get right now). All-Bran, Darcy muses, has a taste reminiscent of sawdust. _But at least it’s healthy sawdust!_

When she finishes brushing her teeth, Loki slips in and grabs the toothpaste from her hand. The box of cereal on the kitchen counter is untouched.

\--

“Darcy, if you could pull up a graph of anomalies over the past three years…”

Jane is in full professor mode. When Darcy came in this morning, she hadn’t been briefed, and so she was thrown into an impromptu meeting with Director Fury himself. Tony’s there, too – _It’s impossible to keep that man out of anyone’s business_ – and he flashes her a reassuring smile. Loki is just kinda… there. Darcy left him to skulk in the corner, but once she’s done tapping in the twenty-odd passwords necessary to get to the required files and it’s all being projected onto the wall behind Jane, she turns her head, and sees that Loki is rapt.

“We’re still trying to determine what precisely has caused these spikes. The first one, here, coincides with Thor’s… arrival on Earth. But there have been other, more recent, incidents that we can’t connect to such famous or well-documented events. Nothing on that scale seems to have occurred.”

Darcy catches Loki smirking to himself. It’s a smirk that means he knows exactly what’s going on and he’s not telling anyone.

“Loki? Do you have any idea?” Darcy pipes up brightly. He flashes her a glare, but she just cocks an eyebrow, daring him to make a scene. All eyes in the room are now trained on the two of them, and he knows that if he wants to retain even this semblance of freedom, he needs to cooperate.

“I might have some information that could be of use,” Loki says finally. He slides into the seat beside Darcy, wrapping an arm around her loosely. Payback, she supposes. Director Fury takes it all in with that same impassive look he reserves for everything else, something else to catalogue in his brain. _To be filed under ‘Shit Loki Does.’_ The position feels more comfortable than it ought to, and Darcy finds herself zoning out.

She feels a jolt – a bit like a very minor electric shock – and realizes that Jane is asking her something.

“Darce, could you-” Jane gestures to the laptop, and Darcy nods, quickly pulling up a blank Word document and taking notes.

The rest of the morning passes in this way, Loki’s fingers blazing trails through her thin sweater as she tries to record everything he’s saying.

The lab is dark, and as Darcy begins to grow tired, she starts to see little flashes on the screen; letters rearranging themselves, accents being inserted. She blinks rapidly, trying to dispel her drowsiness. She could _swear_ that she didn’t type that... but it must be her mind playing tricks. After all, what other explanation could there be?

Magic?

No, that would be ridiculous. She’s just getting confused. Maybe the heat is getting to her.

(It’s not hot.)

(But work with her, here.)

(Because _nobody_ wants the other option to be true.)

\--

_Absolutely nothing is going on. Stop freaking out, Darce._

_Right, because you just_ inherently _knew how to spell weird-ass Norse terms, right, Darce? Norse has always come easily to you, after all. Mjölnir, for example. Oh, I mean ‘Mew-Mew.’_

_\--_

\--

“Okay, spill.”

It’s their lunch break, and Darcy has dragged Loki to the canteen with her. The slightly worried looks from the other Stark employees are completely worth it, and for once, finding a free table takes under thirty seconds.

“What?” Loki’s tone is innocent, just the right mixture of surprised and confused. He’s a good liar ( _shocker, there_ ), but it’s not enough to convince Darcy.

“Your powers are functional, aren’t they?” she whispers under the pretence of stealing a bite of his mashed potatoes.

“Miss Lewis, what you’re suggesting should not be possible. My magic has been tamped down. My mothe- Frigga herself designed the binding runes.” Loki is staring straight at Darcy now, and she tries not to blink. “It would all be quite problematic, would it not? To have my powers back? I imagine that SHIELD would be unhappy to hear that kind of a rumour.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’ll be getting, darling. And stop eating my meal. You have your own plate.”

Darcy throws a pea at him petulantly.

“You missed.”

She doesn’t miss the second time. Or the third.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who sorta kinda awkwardly foreshadowed earlier???  
> (I'm awful ignore me :P)  
> Hugs to all my readers <3 <3 <3  
> Special shout-out to marshmallowdeviant. You keep me motivated!


	9. Kiss And Make Up

She accepts on a whim.

Drinks with the Avengers sounds like a better way to spend an evening than sitting with Mr. Reformed Psychopath as he quietly regains his powers and plots how to take over New York or ruin Darcy’s love life. (She’s not clear on what his priorities are at this moment, but they seem to be veering in that direction.) And, seriously, how could a girl refuse Captain ‘Call me Steve’ America?

“Where are you going?” Loki asks as Darcy fastens the handcuffs.

“Out.”

“With whom?” If there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice, Darcy doesn’t notice it. At all.

“Steve,” she says bluntly. Loki stiffens, already jumping to conclusions. Darcy feels no need to disavow him of whatever ridiculous notions he’s gotten into his head.

“Miss Lewis, that rather complicates our plan regarding Dr. Fos-”

“ _Our_ plan? I think you mean _your_ plan, and let me tell you, I have absolutely no interest in helping you along with the stupid prank that got me into this whole mess. Besides, what I do in my spare time has nothing to do with you.” Darcy is defensive, and although she isn't going off on a date, she feels very protective of her imaginary potential relationship now that it’s under fire. “I thought I was supposed to act not interested, anyway. Isn't this exactly what you wanted?”

Loki is, for once, without words.

“Have a nice night,” Darcy huffs.

“ _Steve Rogers has arrived, Madam._ ”

Darcy rushes to the hall mirror to check her hair quickly.

“Let him in!”

The door unlocks with a light beep.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Darcy says, turning toward the entranceway. Loki is standing in the corner, glaring at the floor. _Nothing new there._

She suddenly squeaks as she finds herself being somehow flung forward. _Were those sparks?_

Steve is pushing the door open when Darcy lands against Loki’s chest. Slightly dizzy from miraculously – _magically, even?_ – travelling a distance of several feet in a second, she grips onto Loki’s arms, and tries to catch her breath. _Yeah, those handcuffs? Definitely_ not _working._

“What the-” Loki’s lips lightly press against hers, and dammit, she just _might_ kiss him back for a second (reflexes, obviously).

“I wish you a lovely evening,” he whispers.

At times like these, Darcy is immensely thankful for whoever invented the stiletto heel, since it makes it all the more rewarding when she accidentally puts all her weight onto one foot and just happens to step on Loki’s foot. _It might not be enough to incapacitate a God, but it’ll still hurt like hell._

“By the N-”

“Steve!” she says brightly. “Good to see you.”

\--

If it was Loki’s intention to ensure that she wouldn't be able to thing about anything but that gosh darned kiss for the rest of the night… well, he succeeded. Even squished on a couch between Tony frickin' Stark and _the_ Black Widow, Darcy’s mind keeps returning to the idiot residing in her 14 th floor apartment.

“How fares my brother?” Thor asks in his usual booming way. Darcy had hoped that this wouldn't come up. _What do I say? He’s a little shit, and I'm starting to like him more and more despite it. Oh, by the way, his powers are back. Oh! More importantly, he kissed me._

“He’s fine.”

Thor looks as though he’d like to clarify what kind of ‘fine’ Darcy means, but Tony quickly shifts the topic of conversation.  Steve shoots Darcy a glance, but he doesn't say anything (for which she is eternally grateful).

\--

Darcy leaves early, bothered by the image of Loki sitting alone in the apartment, fiddling with his handcuffs. Fear, she decides, is her prime motivator. _Who knows what kind of shenanigans he could be getting up to._ Yes, the reason her stomach is flopping has to be fear. Something as silly as pity would be impossible, and to chalk it up to a desire to see him… that would be plain ludicrous.

There is a kind of bitter smirk on Loki’s face when she walks through the door. He’s bad at staying hydrated – and fed, she’s noticed – so she grabs a glass from the kitchen and fills it with water from the tap before walking over to his seat on the leather sofa.

She sets it down on the table beside him as she reaches beneath her blouse and pulls out the key. Loki’s eyes track her movements with a catlike focus, lazily sizing up his prey. (Or checking out her boobs. She never knows with him.)

Once his cuffs have been unlocked and put away, Darcy starts rummaging through the cabinets, trying to find something edible. She settles on a can of soup, seeing as Loki didn't eat very much at lunch. Or dinner.

“Midnight snack,” she singsongs as she makes her way back to the kitchen, carefully balancing two steaming bowls of chicken noodle. Loki nods, and she watches as the two bowls effortlessly float out of her hands and onto the table in front of him. “Neat trick.”

“You’re welcome,” Loki replies. He doesn't touch the soup.

\--

“Eat your meal, Loki. Eat it or I’ll- I’ll…”

“You’ll do what, Miss Lewis?”

His tone is just a shade too sassy, and Darcy pulls out the big guns.

“I’ll call Thor and tell him that you need a caregiver.” She grins evilly to herself, grabbing a pillow and hugging it dreamily. “Maybe it’s some kind of alien cold… SHIELD would probably love to look into it. Do a couple experiments… and I could get this apartment all to myself. I mean, you’d have to be quarantined. That’s basically standard procedure.”

Loki doesn't look any more intimidated, but he does pick up his spoon and begin to eat. Darcy makes sure to watch him until he’s completely finished, but it’s a regrettable decision, since he makes the act of ingesting Campbell’s soup as attractive as a model in a Calvin Klein ad. _Very. Very attractive._

\--

“How was your evening?”

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Darcy retorts grumpily. “We’re not gonna do the ‘let’s pretend everything is totally normal’ thing. You can’t just act like all that… stuff earlier didn't happen.”

“Stuff?”

“You know…” _The part where you kissed me?_ “Are you so old that you couldn't remember… that?” Darcy gestures awkwardly with her hands (she stops when Loki does that blinking thing where he communicates in one eye movement how absolutely moronic she looks). She sits on her hands to prevent further flailing, and instead glowers at Loki because she _knows_ he hasn't forgotten. He’s toying with her, just like he always does. “If this is all just part of your dumb plan, you need to stop. I don’t like being played.”

“And if it isn’t?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!!!  
> Thanks again to everyone reading :)


	10. No Ifs, Ands, Or Buts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Loki finally clear things up.

At times like these, Darcy is once again reminded that Ms. Smythe, her hated high school guidance counsellor,  was right when she said that you can’t just run away from your problems. Unless that problem is a hungry cougar.

This is infuriating both because Ms. Smythe – who was, by all accounts, an evil little harpy (yeah, no way is she getting forgiven for those weekly detentions anytime soon) – was actually right about something, and also because of the more practical implications of that reminder. However much she might like to, Darcy has to deal with the mess in front of her like a mature adult, and not scurry off in the opposite direction.

Said mess is standing before her with a sincere look on his face, the silence between them growing. His words repeat themselves in Darcy’s head, taunting her, forming that niggling little question she asks herself sometimes, when it’s dark and she doesn’t have to pull herself together because _it’s just you being stupid, he could never actually care about you_. What if…

_If this is all just part of your dumb plan, you need to stop…_

_And if it isn’t?_

His usual smirk has been replaced with a more serious expression, and Darcy might call it ‘sincere’ if she didn’t know any better. But the notion of a sincere Loki is quite enough to snap Darcy out of it. _He’s the God of Lies. Of_ course _he can_ look _like he means what he’s saying. It’s just another prank._

_If it isn’t?_

_If…_

No. Loki is obviously playing her, just like he always does. He’s a bored cat, toying with the scared little mouse in front of him. _Alright, executive decision to nix the predator/prey analogies, Darce. They aren’t helping._

“That’s a silly question,” she finally answers, her voice strong.

“Really.”

Loki cocks an eyebrow expectantly, and Darcy almost loses her nerve. _You can do this, Darce._

“I- it’s… It’s irrelevant.” Darcy steadies her breathing, trying to calm her nerves. _No more stuttering. As long as you don’t directly talk about your own feelings, you won’t be lying._

“On the contrary, it is very much relevant, my dear Miss Lewis.”

“I am not your dear _anything_ , Loki.” The fierceness in her voice has returned, some of her anger leaching in. She’s sick of this plan of his. “I told you. No more games.”

“And I believe you qualified that statement with a rather important stipulation. _If_ it’s part of my plan: those were your words exactly.”

“And?”

“I never said it was.”

“You never said it wasn’t!”

“Why must you be so contrary?”

Darcy stands up, wanting some distance – and an opportunity to feel taller than him for once. (She stops herself from putting her hands on her hips.)

“Why do you always have to play devil’s advocate?”

\--

When Darcy imagined some iteration of this conversation going down, she hadn’t expected it to devolve into a siblings-in-the-backseat style argument so quickly. Loki sighs deeply, and Darcy wonders how he can act like she’s the one acting childish. The entire issue stems from his own idiotic idea about pulling one over Jane and Thor.

“What exactly did I do that suddenly made you feel this way?” Loki growls. His nostrils flare slightly, and the glare he sends her way could make lesser men (or women) tremble.

Darcy Lewis isn’t just anyone, though. She’s not afraid of him, god or not. She has _handcuffed_ this god, and tased his brother. She has seen him spill Campbell’s soup on himself and puzzle over the intricacies of the modern microwave. (Okay, so she is a _little_  scared. The new height difference was intended to make her feel more powerful, but Loki seems just as commanding when he’s a couple feet lower down.)

“You idiot!” Loki’s lips thin. “How can you act like that? You… you _kissed_ me,” Darcy accuses. She didn’t mean to say it. Didn’t mean to make it seem that she actually cared. But now it’s out there, and it can’t be taken back. “Why would you do that?”

Loki quirks his head and rises to his feet. _Yup, standing was a bad idea._

“ _That’s_ what this is about?”

Darcy might squeak just a little when Loki steps closer, now over a head taller than her.

“I’m not a pawn, Loki. I have feelings, you know. Not everyone finds it as easy to be closed off as you do,” Darcy hisses. “You never had to bring me into any of this, but if you were going to, you should have at least asked me. Do you just like messing with me for shits and giggles?”

“Easy?” Loki laughs dryly. Sometimes she thinks that this fake laugh is Loki’s alternative to crying, his way of expressing vulnerability: he’s too good of a liar to show his sadness unless he means to. “You think this is easy for me… Darc- Miss Lewis, you have _no idea_ what this is like.”

“Loki-”

“I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

Darcy freezes.

“So I was just an accident.” She prays that her face doesn’t begin to turn that telltale shade of pink right before she tears up. _Too late._ Her eyes are already stinging. _You wanted honesty, Lewis. Don’t complain when it’s what you get._ “I’m sorry if I ruined some elaborate scheme of yours,” Darcy adds bitterly.  “I’d hate to have thrown a wrench in the works. If you want tips on getting over having fucked things up, I could write a book on the topic.” The sarcasm is a good distraction from the falling feeling in her stomach, but when Loki moves even closer, she tenses. She might _have_ to run away from this problem, Ms. Smythe be damned. Then he opens his mouth.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Miss Lewis.”

A pause.

“But _that_ was not one I regret.” Loki’s voice has lowered to a whisper, his words wrapping around her like a promise. “Did it never, not even once, occur to you, that I might have kissed you for a different reason?”

“What? O-of course not. No.” Lying to the God of that specific art is never a good idea, but Darcy’s attempt is pretty dismal anyway.

“Liar,” Loki murmurs; he tilts his head just so and Darcy’s brain finally catches up with what’s going on. He pauses right when his breath is brushing her lips, as if waiting for her to push him away at the last moment. But Darcy is very much up for this, and she’s not about to give him a chance to reconsider. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she surges forward.

And if it’s not the most graceful kiss on the planet, well, they have a lot of time to perfect it.

\--

When they tell Jane and Thor the story (much, _much_ later), the two just exchange a knowing glance. If Loki catches it, he doesn’t say anything. Thor does receive two packages in the mail later that month. The first is a stink bomb, the kind Loki perfected as a child. The second is a thank you note and a red rose.

The message reads: ‘Just propose already!’ The loopy letters are written in Darcy’s tell-tale purple Sharpie.

Subtlety was never her strong suit, either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS OVER!!!  
> Let me know what you think :D  
> I'm leaving for Germany in a few days, so this will be the last you'll be hearing from me for quite some time. All other fic writers: better keep Tasertricks alive while I'm gone. All my lovely wonderful readers: thank you for reading/commenting/reviewing!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, alright, so I may or may not have been procrastinating on studying for exams and this kind of… happened? Let me know what you guys think!!!


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